


We Are Not Enemies, We Are Friends

by Kajune



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Angst, Bonding, Developing Friendships, Forgiveness, Friendship, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Rivalry, Self-Denial
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-03 00:02:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4078933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kajune/pseuds/Kajune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only Yamamoto didn't see Mukuro as an enemy while Tsuna was away.</p><p>Chapter 5 due date : ???</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

As the next boss of the Vongola Family, Tsuna is invited to a meeting between every Mafia boss of Italy. He cannot refuse, so he (reluctantly) packed his bags and has prepared himself for take off. Under the direct orders from the Ninth and Xanxus, Belphegor is to escort him, in case he gets lost once he arrives at the far away country. Reborn is also joining them as a close advisor.

Right now, Tsuna is at the airport, saying goodbye to his friends and allies.

"I'll sure miss you guys."

"Don't worry, Tenth. You're only going to be there for a couple of weeks, right?" says Gokudera.

"That's true but, are you sure you guys can handle each other?"

"Everything will be fine." Gokudera says again. "As long as you're alright, we have nothing to worry about, at all."

"Well, if you say so." Tsuna half-heartedly accepts.

A moment of silence passes, as the look of doubt lingers on Tsuna's face, as his friends all stand there watching, with most of them beaming joyful smiles. As Belphegor stands, calmly, with hands intertwined behind his head, and Reborn standing on the other side, both next to the boy, Tsuna glances once more at the large group, before saying...

"Then, I think I'll be going now."

Swiftly, he turns around.

"See you, Tenth!" Gokudera shouts.

"Good luck, Tsuna." Dino adds.

"Have a nice trip, Sawada!" Ryohei shouts.

"Bye-bye, boss." Chrome mutters.

Tsuna carefully listens to everyone's words. Each and every one of them are helping to push him forward, and to rid him of his worries. Thus, he is quickly feeling relieved. When he can no longer hear his friends, Tsuna turns his attention to what Belphegor and Reborn are trying to tell him.

Once the young boss is completely out of sight, Bianchi takes the girls - Kyoko, Haru and I-Pin - towards a nearby shop, while the boys - plus Chrome - begin dealing with their _secret_ issue.

"Now the Tenth is gone, we need to settle some things." Gokudera states, no longer carrying that positive air around him.

"What things?" Yamamoto asks, rather confused.

"Don't ask such a stupid question! Don't you know that with Reborn-san gone too, Mukuro can do whatever he wants!?"

Gokudera's words cause all eyes to turn on Mukuro, who stands smiling confidently behind them.

"Mukuro-sama." Chrome whispers.

"I still don't see what the problem is." Yamamoto admits after a moment.

Gokudera grows angry. He grabs the rain guardian by the collar of his shirt and glares at him deeply. "Listen here, Mukuro is not a friend. He will attack any of us whenever he pleases. We are not going to just sit around and allow him to do so." Gokudera releases Yamamoto, and steps away quietly.

"He's right." Dino says. "We can't trust him that much." He turns slightly towards Mukuro, who is still showing no concern over their hatred for him. Everything they say is within hearing range, and none of them seem to care.

"If you get anywhere near the girls I'll blow you to bits." Gokudera threatens as he steps forward, closer to Mukuro, with explosives ready in his hands. "Do you understand me?"

"Kufufu." Mukuro chuckles. "Whatever you say."

"Bastard." Gokudera growls as he retreats, his explosives hidden, then suddenly...

_"Kahaha!"_

The loud laughter causes Gokudera to snap. In response, he swings right round and lands a powerful blow to Mukuro's cheek, sending the illusionist backwards but otherwise unfazed, confidence still spread across his features. Another fist however, knocks him right off his feet.

"Mukuro!" Yamamoto shouts, and attempts to run towards the mist guardian.

He fails when Gokudera steps in the way. He looks dead mad at Yamamoto for his attempt. Not wanting to start a fight, Yamamoto carefully steps back, and watches Mukuro show that sinister grin, before laughing again. Gokudera responds with another punch, as the rest either watch or ignore. Blood drops onto the tiles, yet neither boys seem willing to back down.

"Pathetic."

Mukuro mocks Gokudera, despite the latter still looking furious and he himself looking somewhat worn down, and barely on his feet. Before Gokudera can throw a tiny explosive to silence him, Hibari dashes forward, and kicks the mist guardian in the face. Gasps are heard all around, though none of Yamamoto's friends seem to mind, as they each watch Mukuro get to his feet from being kicked while still down.

The smile persists.

The cloud guardian produces a tonfa, and swings it at Mukuro. It hits, not the head which was the intended target, but the left arm, quick to block it. Another tonfa appears, but the illusionist pushes his opponent away and dashes off, but not before flashing them all a proud grin like he's won something. This concludes the conflict, which has drawn more attention than the group should feel comfortable with.

To Yamamoto, the whole incident was horrible, cruel, and regretful.

He wishes he could have helped the other.

Poor guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another old story being updated. Hope you enjoy~


	2. Hopeless Visit

Although Belphegor's killing instincts are on a frightening level, he is more than willing to deactivate them while with someone capable of giving him a good reason to; in Yamamoto's case, it's his dad's sushi. As for the Kokuyo pair, they seem truly not above killing even those considered allies to them. Just one step into their domain, and they both lash out viciously and eagerly.

This is the reason why Yamamoto is currently struggling to survive after entering Kokuyo Land. Joshima Ken is very determined to bite his limbs off without hesitation, while Kakimoto Chikusa couldn't care less about decorating the walls with thousands of needles.

Initially, Yamamoto was confused about their pleasure in ambushing all their uninvited guests, some of who he heard were never seen again. But at this moment, now that he has them on his own trail, he has figured out the reason for this level of hostility. What they are doing isn't instinct...it's _protection_. They are trying to protect Mukuro. It's impossible to consider himself an ally after what his friends did. There's a chance these two know what went on back at the airport, the contempt they all showed to their precious leader.

Being one with them, it's only natural they'd want to get rid of Yamamoto as soon as possible, and leave no time for second thoughts.

As he dashes around the first floor, along a few corridors, Yamamoto can see their disdain for the people who've offended them. Shreds of clothing lie here and there on the dusty floor, dark splatters decorate each area and no doubt they are in fact blood. If the sight of a broken wrist-watch and one miss-placed ID card doesn't reveal enough of their hatred, then the roaring from a lion-turned teenager should do well instead.

 _Frustration_ , and not just the plain frustration many express upon losing their favorite toy or failing a test, but one powered by sadness. Yamamoto may not be a wise individual, but he's seen enough and cared enough for others to tell the difference between illogical hate and hate born from another, more complex emotion. Furthermore, why else would these two attack him upon sight, knowing it would only discredit their leader more?

They don't want to create trouble, but they have no choice. To them, the idea of leaving Yamamoto alone or alive will only upset Mukuro more. A person with no real difference to an enemy, cannot be left alone within their domain, their sanctuary, and probably the only place where they can be safe. It hurts them, as it hurts Yamamoto, to have been unable to save Mukuro from the humiliating attack by the Vongola.

It was two days ago. In the early hours of Thursday, Tsuna left for Italy as part of his grand duty, taking with him the kid and Belphegor. Afterwards, did reality strike Yamamoto in the form of harsh words, then a scene he could not believe was happening before him, and before a crowd of tourists and departing locals. Behind Tsuna's back, Mukuro had been cruelly chased away.

Only he and Chrome looked on in horror, though one glance towards her told him that, there was little doubt in her in the necessity of the treatment. For someone who greatly respects and often speaks fondly of Mukuro, it remains a surprise how she showed no sign of wanting the assault to end. The only ones who did make them leave the scene, were security guards.

Gokudera had been uninterested in leaving right after Mukuro, the thought making him sick to the stomach, as he said. The look on Hibari's face appeared to say the same thing as he hid his weapons. They didn't like the idea of being near the illusionist. Dino then voiced the others' thoughts to wait for the girls to return, but two security guards had other plans and didn't care about protests from one testy silver-haired.

The walk out was relatively peaceful, up until Gokudera grabbed his arm and forced him into the same car as himself and Dino. A row of Chiavarone Family cars had brought most of them there, and were waiting to take them back. It pained Yamamoto, to spend hours listening to the two males telling him off, one of them calling him names, as they both reminded him how he shouldn't forget Mukuro's past crimes. Their words were soaked in distrust, yet he could say nothing in return. He didn't dare even, since the look on their faces told him they weren't going to listen.

All that was left of Gokudera's anger was being blasted in his face, in words he rather not admit came from his friend. Gokudera was frustrated at Mukuro, and for no good reason either; he just didn't want to forgive, and to Yamamoto, that made it senseless frustration.

By the end of the ride, Gokudera and Dino felt certain he hadn't been listening to them, not really, which resulted in the days prior to this one being about them monitoring him, mainly while he was at school, where not only does Gokudera study, but where Dino also teaches.

They want to make sure he doesn't do something stupid again.

Is it stupid to care about someone? Is it smart to simply attack a person you hate? Regardless if Mukuro kept on laughing and grinning at them, what were they expecting him to do in such a situation? He was inside an airport, likely under the eyes of security cameras, and had come all the way from home to bid Tsuna farewell. Shouldn't everyone be grateful?

Yamamoto isn't sure who's stupid, but it can't possibly be him. Maybe he's being reckless, deciding to come here after hours of being under survaliance, like a child being babysat by someone mature. Maybe he's wrong to take his chances and leave his home early to avoid detection, to avoid angry eyes, but at least he's trying to apologize.

 _Apologize_. That's why he's here.

He came here just before sunrise to tell Mukuro he is sorry, and although he didn't attack him like Gokudera and Hibari did, he still didn't force his way through to help the other. The moment Gokudera stepped in front of him, the moment he lost his will. To Yamamoto, that's equal to having done the deed himself. He knows he would never, not without a proper reason, and since he had none, all he cares about and has been thinking about for days, is to apologize.

The racing of his heart and the beads of sweat forming all over tell him, that this task is much harder than anticipated.

With each step, he's trying to get closer to Mukuro, trying to reach the second floor where he's confident Mukuro is. Though at the end of every corridor, there is either a cluster of needles making him lose his footing or a deadly carnivore making him take the wrong turn. They're doing good, protecting Mukuro from his presence, and as capable as he is at going offensive, he doesn't want to hurt these two, or destroy more of what's hardly left of their residence.

He understands their anger. He knows why there's this chase and for that he's not at all mad over their attacks.

In addition, any attempt at retaliating would be hard with the many shadows serving well as hiding spots for the pair as they fire their assaults, leaving Yamamoto bruised and bleeding, and increasingly exhausted. Eventually, Yamamoto hooks himself to a giant pipe on the ceiling, and barely manages to stay out of the reach of Ken's giant claws.

"Cut it out, Ken, he isn't going to give up." Chikusa suddenly commands, his thin form still mostly hidden within the shadows.

The transformed Ken turns back at him, looking doubly annoyed. Meanwhile, Yamamoto only hopes they'll give him a break, and not reduce him to a corpse a nearby rat can chew on. He prays it doesn't come any closer, they're such unpleasant little creatures.

"Huh? I don't want to!" Ken yells, just as Yamamoto's left arm falters.

Chikusa doesn't give a reply, but simply retreats back into the darkness. For the next few moments, Ken continues trying to reach and claw and _kill_ Yamamoto from below. From his lack of trying to climb up instead, it is clear that he is also tired from the chase. Said chase soon ends in the Vongola's favor, when after one loud snort, Ken goes in the direction where Chikusa was, and disappears without a sound.

Yamamoto doesn't come down even when his arms go numb. He waits, counts to thirty, before releasing the pipe and landing solidly, onto the filthy ground. A better landing is impossible in his condition. Nevertheless, he still wishes to continue moving. Which is why, the next minute finds him panting just below a broken ladder, his breath coming out in heavy puffs but otherwise, still looking determined to see Mukuro.

'Sorry guys.'

He tells himself before setting one foot on the bar, knowing his actions are in defiance to what Ken and Chikusa tried so hard to do, a task they so loyally tried to follow. Though not for a second, have the eyes of the two Italians lost sight of him. Not yet.

Fearing they might continue the chase, Yamamoto doesn't allow himself to rest once he's reached the top. If they don't continue the chase, it would be very suspicious. No way they'll trust him simply because they failed to catch him. What happens if a hitman comes by and outdoes them too? That would put Mukuro in mortal danger.

The only reassuring thought he has concerning that possibility is the well-known fact that Mukuro is strong.

He wonders, as he tries to focus more on his own task than theirs, what will Mukuro do when he sees him. The two of them have never been on wonderful terms and there's nothing to change that. Yamamoto was here when Tsuna and co. invaded to defeat Mukuro. Yamamoto is also a member of the Vongola Family, and for all he knows, Mukuro detests the Mafia (Gokudera made this particularly clear as they rode on their way home).

There can be no reason for Mukuro, a long-time enemy of his friends, to acknowledge him as an ally. Mukuro became an enemy by being unsympathetic, hurting those he cherishes, for which he was led to joining the group that eventually defeated him. By now, there has been no trouble caused by Mukuro, at least not in the past five months, and for that Yamamoto no longer deems him a threat. It is why he _wishes_ they could get along, enough so they can talk.

Knowing how high the chances are that his words will be rebuffed, doesn't make Yamamoto's walking any slower, nor does it make his mind any less fixated on his task than it was when the thought first popped up, two days ago.

Ignoring the pain and ache throughout most of his body, especially in the back and the tiredness in his legs, Yamamoto pushes forward through the empty corridors void of the same remains he found downstairs. He's still expecting company from the disappeared duo, and wouldn't entirely mind getting into another chase knowing their motives aren't that dark, aren't that vicious. Not to mention, the lack of what he saw earlier being present makes him realize clearly that those two did well to keep unwanted guests from this floor, which makes him wonder why they didn't just stop him as he climbed the ladder, a task that would have been so easy it's laughable. Do they have something planned?

Cringing at the thought of becoming rat food, Yamamoto walks on, more determined than ever to not worry about those two too much.

Though when his thoughts do shift back to Mukuro, the possibility of being reduced to nothing by Mukuro himself brings him to a halt. It would be sad if this trip ended in such a way, all his efforts wasted, and no doubt his friends will go increasingly vicious towards Mukuro as a result. However, there's little chance over him being disposed of for good, since they can't risk hurting a mafioso (a term he still dislikes). The worst that will happen, is Yamamoto going home with more bruises.

He's probably thinking too hard. He came here to do the right thing, and finally keeping that in mind, Yamamoto resumes his steps.

For Mukuro to simply refuse him without meaning life or death is acceptable. After what he suffered, he probably needs more time alone, and if no words reach him during this first attempt, then that means Yamamoto didn't wait long enough for recovery. He was so eager to make amends he took the first chance he knew he would have to come here, and now at this point, to turn away...would be far more reckless than anything he's ever done.

After what felt like ten minutes of gliding through dust and little light from broken windows, Yamamoto finally reaches a door with a sign hanging from its knob. It reads "Do Not Enter", and this refers to all who read it, including the two subordinates; says the intensity of the letters, each one carved in with perfect precision. A strange air is also seething from behind the door, one that spells the same words as the letters before him.

He wants to change this, end the hurt Mukuro must be feeling, especially the one that drove him to write this sign. Although it could have been placed here before, Yamamoto has a strong feeling it's new. So, with a careful turn of his wrist, he opens the door. It instantly produces a creaking sound the second he pushes forward, and while at first he worries being caught before he can reason with the other, nothing happens as he opens the door half way, and sees where exactly he's gotten himself.

Mukuro's room, just as he thought.

At the other side of the room, a large, broken window with little glass left to filter out sunlight is present, and sitting upon its frame is Mukuro, one leg in front of him and another more or less hanging. His back is against the frame, and his eyes are looking out. His expression appears somewhat sad. This pains Yamamoto, who begins examining the room.

Dirt and dust cover this room as well, which is quite bad for a place of sleep. What if he catches germs? A bed, which he can barely see through the dark shades, is towards the left, pressed against the wall with no pictures or anything personal to speak of. Closer to Yamamoto is a large cupboard, made of wood, with a light brown color. It is probably the most untainted thing in here. Nothing much decorates the right side, aside from a few books and an old school bag, including a trident, each left against the wall. Gray, is the color of the room.

A Depressing color.

Yamamoto gulps. He's uncertain if he should speak his presence or wait for an invitation. No matter how distracted Mukuro looks, he is an illusionist and a smart one no doubt, so a simple-minded teenager like himself can never compare or easily fool the owner of this residence. Though time, feels as if it's ticking agonizingly slow. Thinking now that Mukuro is waiting for an introduction of sort, Yamamoto parts his lips, however he acted too soon.

"Kufufufu."

A dry laugh echoes throughout the room, and from where Yamamoto is standing, he can see it came from the now-smiling lips of Rokudo Mukuro. Is there a reason to look so delighted? Some part of Yamamoto denies there is one, instead, this look is a facade.

"How amusing. Ken and Chikusa actually failed to keep out guests." Yamamoto stiffens. "A dear shame."

Mukuro's positive expression seems to contradict the word "shame", or that the look is meant to infer that he is merely being sarcastic. Somewhere from inside Yamamoto, a voice is informing him of a different reality, claiming the mask itself is fake and there's nothing for the other to be sarcastic about. More likely, the meaning behind such a joyous look is something sinister, and Mukuro intends to do what Yamamoto had been afraid of just moments earlier.

Nothing comes but a light chuckle, however, and so Yamamoto - in all his might - forces his own words out in defiance against the renewed fear building from within. He's trying his best to ignore shivering now caused by it.

"Mukuro..." His voice comes out as pleading, and that may not sound appealing to the other. Mukuro's expression doesn't appear to have changed in response. "I'm sorry for what happened back at the airport, you didn't deser-"

The rain guardian, gets sharply cut off.

"Yamamoto Takeshi." Seriousness comes in, with a hint of malice. Maybe coming here was a very bad idea. Miss-matched eyes turn to him, as words spill without hesitation. "Do go back the way you came. I'm certain Ken and Chikusa will not harm you after giving-"

Yamamoto acts impulsively, and responds without thinking at the heartless words which have made him frown.

"Please Mukuro! Listen to me-"

He doesn't speak back, or cut through his speech again, but the look on his face, for no matter how brief, shouted the words 'I do not intend to listen'. A dark, non-welcoming frown crosses Mukuro's face for the first time in all the months they've known each other. Yamamoto goes silent just looking at it, which gives space for the other to (quickly) bring back that happy look and speak more words, _without_ any of the hate his face so clearly displayed.

"Maybe next time you come by they'll continue to leave you alone. Very formidable you are." Mukuro turns away, back to his old view as he says, "Now go."

He failed, it clearly sounds, to hide disdain as he spoke those final words. Yamamoto so strongly wants to yell back, get some sense into this self-denial man he means no harm, but who clearly appears to think otherwise. Just looking at the room and a lack of company is apparent, days of solitude most definitely went by while Yamamoto only hoped, during that period up until now, to help him get better and grant a helping hand.

He didn't expect to get all mad, but the last time someone played heartless and unfazed, terrible consequences followed. Not wanting history to repeat itself, out of the care he has for someone as forgivable as Mukuro, it takes a sharp pain in his chest, an unexplainable one, to force him to retreat, after having relented for nearly seven full minutes.

An illusion is what struck him, showing just how much Mukuro wants him out of his sight, for whatever reason, whether he sees him guilty of the bullying or finds him simply an eyesore.

As stated, Yamamoto walks back - albeit sluggishly - towards the entrance without the presence of his attackers. The pain continues as he goes through the gate, and only after he's outside the grounds, does he lift up his shirt to spot a nail stabbed into his chest, causing red and a feeling of horror.

He's not surprised Mukuro did this, not after hearing all the stories of what he's done before, but it looks almost lethal. Pulling it out, a few drops of blood hit the pavement, but nothing else; no poison, nothing of odd color follows, and Yamamoto deems this simply as a warning from the lonesome illusionist to not return.

As a pair of eyes resume watching his every step, ever since he came down the ladder, Yamamoto walks away, feeling very down, and more upset with his so-called righteous allies.

"Why did you stop chasing him, Kakipi?"

Ken finally asks after the teenager goes out of sight. His legs are wobbling a bit from forcing them to stand, absolutely still, by a broken window so he and his partner can quietly spy on the other. He still hasn't recovered from that unusually difficult chase.

"I could tell," Chikusa begins. "that unlike most, he means Mukuro-sama no harm."

Ken frowns. Who gave him the right to make that judgment?

"He did last time."

Chikusa, despite his all-the-time neutral expression, gives Ken a look that almost startles the other, the seriousness in those empty eyes urging him to understand the meaning of his last words before their break time.

"Ken." No response, just a look of fear directed back. "How long ago, again, was that?"

* * *

Quickly comes noon as Yamamoto, with a nail in hand, walks the long distance from Kokuyo Land to his home, near the heart of Namimori. His feet feel heavy yet he keeps moving. His mouth is full of words to say, yet he keeps moving. His mind wishes to rush back, yet he keeps moving. As disappointed as he feels, as dangerous as it is to take this long to get home, Yamamoto continues to move forward in slow motion, though technically the fastest he is able to go...

...under the weight of failure.

A few citizens turn to him as he passes by, each noticing how he's sad, broken, and injured. He's probably leaving a trail of blood along his distant path, but he cares not as he keeps on going. He hardly even notices the faint red stain on his white shirt. How sad, it was his favorite shirt too.

Yamamoto doesn't know how long it took, but what was definitely a long trip ended when he was met with the sight of his ever-busy, and enthusiastic father. Surrounded by a group of hungry, ordinary customers, it takes Tsuyoshi some time to notice the presence of his own flesh and blood by the entrance, and to him he gives a bright, loving smile.

"Oh, Takeshi." He exclaims. "Welcome back!"

The kind greeting warms Yamamoto's heart up a bit, ridding him of some guilt he knows he shouldn't be carrying as much. After returning the gesture with the best "I'm fine" smile, Yamamoto walks towards his room while being completely ignored by all those near him. His wounds are beginning to sting, which reminds him how he should have done something about them earlier, or else be caught by his father.

Which he probably did, since the guy is annoyingly sharp.

It takes the last of Yamamoto's strength to reach his bed, where he slumps down onto, without a care that doing so hurt his back somewhat. He can't help it, not while feeling like he's been doing the wrong thing constantly. He did begin this journey with good intentions, but in the end he failed and that fact alone matters...everything else is pointless to mention.

Spreading his fingers, Yamamoto can still see, as he turns to his right, the bloodied nail, a sort of insulting gift from Mukuro. Had he gone tomorrow or a week later, would this still end up in his chest? Had he helped Mukuro back at the airport and given no care to Gokudera's nasty side, would he have been more welcomed by the Kokuyo gang?

Questions and questions, each and every one tire him more. He needs to get his body fixed up soon, and check to see if the 'Evil Duo' have noticed anything, which is quite likely. Pushing aside the fear of seeing his father again, and meeting eyes with either his classmate or teacher, Yamamoto allows himself to drift off into a quiet sleep.

'I'm sorry, Mukuro.'

...is all he really wanted to say.

 


	3. Saturday Afternoon

Soreness takes over his senses as he comes to, making all movement a hassle. His back is the worst, the landing on the floor leaving him with aches he's quite unfamiliar with. The room is still bright thanks to the sun, meaning only a few hours have gone by since he virtually passed out from the hopeless visit.

It takes a good deal of effort to drag himself to the bathroom, and a great deal of courage to go knowing he could run into his old man. Warm water touches his skin without any disturbance, and soon after, Yamamoto begins pondering on what to do about his ruined shirt. Other than that, his mind is heavily occupied with what to do, should it turn out that Gokudera and Dino did notice his unusually long absence.

* * *

A dark blue shirt is now covering his upper body, hiding the aching layers of flesh not well treated thanks to the lack of a proper medical kit, having long wasted his last one following a tough battle. There is a friend he knows who can treat him, one who doesn't ask too many questions. His mind therefore, becomes fixed on getting to that person's place the moment he exited the house.

The worry about seeing Mr. Yamamoto was meaningless, as revealed by a note left on the counter of the restaurant. It helps raise income by doing deliveries for customers, so it is not uncommon for Tsuyoshi to be out when he's usually chopping dead fish at such an hour.

It's half past three in the afternoon, and as his feet take him to his destination, Yamamoto can't help but feel today has been uneventful, or empty of anything interesting besides a shameful failure. He was expecting too much from going to Kokuyo Land. He nearly got killed there, was treated more kindly than any intruder should, and all that really amounted to was him ending up home hurt in more ways than one.

Maybe any attempt he could have made to save Mukuro at the airport might have only worsened things, caused more problems among the group and left him with more regrets than he is bearing now. Maybe he really is a useless person, an incapable teenager good only when holding a bat or a sword. Gokudera has said this many times, and only now does it begin to sink in.

The words resonate in his head more when the teenager in question pops up in front of him, glaring as usual.

"Where have you been, baseball freak?"

The question alarms Yamamoto, though he hardly shows it. His sudden appearance and what he's just asked both imply the possibility that he knows he went somewhere earlier, most likely to see Mukuro as he had been trying to prevent for days.

**They've caught him.**

"Nowhere. I was at home all morning."

Despite looking honest and sounding honest too, Gokudera's glare darkens. He had been gone for so long, it shouldn't be a surprise how they _did_ notice and suspect him of having gone against their orders. He is the only one among the gang who tried to help Mukuro, object to their treatment of him and, with a reputation of being very forgiving, there is no doubt in them that Yamamoto has a wish to go off and 'befriend' Mukuro despite all the (obvious) dangers.

No one else has proven the desire to do that.

Yamamoto looks at his friend warily, unsure on what to say that will wipe the threatening look from the other's face. It is almost as if he's been scanned, layer by layer, as if his bruises are being looked at, but unlike with a doctor, the eyes on him are full of disdain not known to be shared between them before. It hurts.

"What...?"

Yamamoto tries to calm the air, but this only provokes an angry Gokudera into grabbing him by the collar and squeeze tightly, lifting the shirt up a bit so it's nearly strangling the taller teen.

"Look here, idiot! Mukuro is an enemy, don't you ever go near him again!"

His words send chills down Yamamoto's spine, while the hold on him is making breathing quite difficult, and all Yamamoto can think about is what to say to change this moment.

"I~I...didn't go, see him. Promise."

It is rare for Yamamoto to lie. Out of his small group of friends he is probably the least to lie. Though it never ceases to amaze him how good he is at the art of deception, no matter how much he detests lying and deceiving; a trait he clearly does not share with dear Mukuro. However, his response only angers Gokudera further, who forcibly slams Yamamoto's back against a nearby wall, sending shots of pain up the rain guardian, though he fights to hold the grunts in, knowing it would only raise more questions he doesn't know how to answer.

The hold on his shirt remains as tight as ever.

Clearly, he is being suspected of disobeying orders. There's little chance the two babysitters followed him, since like father like son, Yamamoto can sense a nearby presence. It's how he knew when they were watching him while at school or just outside the gates. Yet Gokudera, out of constant distrust in people that includes everyone but Tsuna and the kid, anything Yamamoto does can get him on the wanted list, and leave him choking on his own breath while under the intensity of accusing silver eyes.

"Don't lie to me! I know you went out, and I bet it was to go see Mukuro. You think we wouldn't notice!?"

Gokudera presses his fist harder against the lump in Yamamoto's throat, making him feel pain his two babysitters surely believe he deserves for siding with the enemy, even when said enemy clearly shoved him away without so much as a greeting. Air becomes a desperate need, and the regret of not taking a different route slowly eats away at Yamamoto.

Damn, his back hurts.

"Yamamoto!"

His lack of responding - not that he has anything to say to such cruel words - causes the pressure against him to increase, and new words to be shot at him louder. However, Gokudera's last shout had caught the attention of the very friend Yamamoto was hoping to see. Light brown hair, cream-colored skin and a voice sweet unlike most teenage boys of his age. A soft, "Yamamoto-kun?" draws the attention of both guardians and, in an instant, Gokudera pulls away.

A sharp glare is all he gives before departing from the scene, hands in pockets and a mind undoubtedly filled with rage at a friend he has rarely ever admired. Yamamoto watches him briefly, coughs, and turns to the other, whose face is covered in surprise and not much else.

Who wouldn't look so bewildered at the sight of two friends appearing as though hate is all they have ever shared?

To knock him out of his daze, Yamamoto, with a hand around his neck and his back peeled from the wall, looks at him with delight and calls his name.

"Naoki-kun," The other blinks, rapidly, before returning the gaze. "I need you to heal some wounds."

* * *

"Seriously, Yamamoto-kun, you should be more careful."

Naoki, who likely kept his mouth shut for as long as he possibly could, says this. Another plaster finds itself on Yamamoto's left arm, next to the previous. A few more are stuck on the back, a part of the body which has been well treated and finally at ease. One thing Yamamoto never ceases to admire about Naoki is his respect in the privacy of others. He may make his worries or curiosity slip, but only when the things he hears or sees really exceed...'what is usually expected'.

Yamamoto has not said much since the clash with Gokudera, preferring not to after failing to say the right words and only end up with his neck red and back in greater agony. The short walk to this house and this chair was a difficult one, and it would've been worse had Naoki not saved him from that dangerous encounter. Thanks to him, his sore body, is no longer in so much pain.

Which is why, after all the hisses and thankful smiles, Yamamoto is willing to say at least _something_ to the other, concerning his rather hopeless situation.

"I know. I try to be. I just had no choice but to sacrifice myself a bit for an important task."

Despite sounding calm, his brown eyes are gleaming sadness, which appears quite noticeable.

"A bit?"

Naoki leans over to look at Yamamoto directly in the face, with a very questioning and uncertain expression upon his; it's almost comical.

Yamamoto laughs.

"Maybe not _a bit_ , but, not life threatening, right?"

He jokingly asks his friend, who shakes his head in mild disapproval, only because he is being this guy's doctor and seeing him all battered...it hurts. The wounds he sustained hardly seem laughable.

Silence breaks in again, as one more wound finds itself gently covered by a proper plaster. Maybe the reason Naoki seems disappointed is because, some of the cuts he's been covering up, do contain a life-threatening poison. It would explain why Yamamoto felt so weak and down, at least, more so than usual. In other words, what he went through during that visit could have killed him. It was lucky Chikusa couldn't hit him full on with all his needles.

 **That** , would at least, have led to problems.

Yamamoto and Naoki part ways with friendly gestures and words, though Yamamoto does take Naoki aback by giving him some cash, when none of his wounds really gave the other much trouble. The rain guardian exits the house with not much on his mind. By now, it is clear those two noticed his absence, but clearly don't know where he went, they just suspect it. However, that is a good enough reason for them to criticize and hate him more.

They want Mukuro left alone, mainly out of spite but also to protect their own. Should Yamamoto keep on trying to defy their wishes, he will be deemed an enemy himself and lose all his allies, maybe even Tsuna. He just wants to build a bridge that will enable the two sides to join, to get along. What he is trying to do isn't wrong, so why is he the only one of his friends working so hard to form some sort of peace treaty?

Why has he turned out so different?

Questions cloud his head as Yamamoto leans against the concrete fence of Naoki's house. He honestly doesn't want to have a run in with Dino too. In fact, he's beginning to hate school because of their constant surveillance of him. It's even worse than having Hibari spy on him outside of class. At least the cloud guardian doesn't make random assumptions and for no good reason.

Maybe he should call in sick? Though that would only arouse more suspicion.

What else can he do then? What is there left for him to do today?

* * *

Cool liquid enters him as his eyes indulge in the sight of children, playing around in a park. Their smiles and colorful clothing, help to soothe his troubled heart. As always, milk serves as a very useful treat, making his day brighter with just a very drops.

He has firmly decided to wait before making another visit. It's a dangerous place, Kokuyo Land, yet he is willing to trend upon such territory if it means a problem can be solved. Probably, his efforts will amount to nothing but, the idea of not doing anything on its own makes him feel bad, or a great deal of self-loathing.

Revenge isn't sweet, unlike milk, and surely unlike forgiveness.

Yamamoto can forgive Mukuro for his past crimes, set aside problems now there has been no disturbance caused by the other. It's been a long time since Mukuro initiated everyone's hate for him, and only the desire to appear strong and brave, puts everyone in discomfort upon seeing him. He's done nothing wrong for so long, it has become ridiculous to despise him still. The hate his friends have for him, is groundless and nothing more than cruelty.

What Yamamoto aims to do, is to either give them a solid reason to trust Mukuro, or to earn Mukuro's trust himself.

There's no reason for the other to remain alone and abandoned.

He has been behaving himself...all this time.

Not even a 'thank you' has been given.

Even if Mukuro rebuffs any form of kindness, that doesn't mean one should not give it to him. Poor Mukuro. It's beginning to sting the rain guardian's heart badly. To be pushed aside and be unable to keep on pursuing an honest friendship. He never thought of bonding with the illusionist before, but that's because he was naive to the conflict still lasting between the two parties.

Now he knows, and now he wants to make a difference.

"Big brother, wanna play?"

A small boy, no more than six, waves to him as he calls loudly for his attention. Yamamoto snaps from his thoughts, and looks up to see half the children smiling at him, each welcoming him with no disdain nor distrust in their eyes. It warms Yamamoto's heart greatly, and so badly he wishes that all his friends - the Kokuyo Gang included - can see this sight.

Throwing the empty carton into a nearby bin, Yamamoto runs off to join the group.

* * *

Sunset approaches as Yamamoto makes it to the entrance of his father's restaurant. An orange sky is above him as he enters with a content smile and nothing else to show. Just a gray pair of trousers, red shoes and a shirt still covering wounds well cared for. He wasn't expecting much upon reaching home, but when a stern voice calls to him, he stops and turns and sees his old man.

Standing behind the counter is a serious-looking Tsuyoshi, arms crossed and clearly in no mood for jokes.

"Takeshi. We need to talk."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is so short, compared to Chapter 2. I'm also deeply sorry for this chapter's poor quality when it was first uploaded. I was being too eager, too quick. 
> 
> I hope you can all enjoy this time round ~


	4. Saturday Night

Yamamoto, back pressed gently against the corridor wall, looks down at his feet with no strength to face the intense glare from his dear old man. It was wrong to assume his father noticed nothing, even if it was merely a tiny hope. The whole concept of Yamamoto Tsuyoshi being clueless to the many wounds and few blood stains on his son was - and will always be - ridiculous.

He should have learned that by now.

"Takeshi," The man starts. "I need to know what happened this morning."

Yamamoto's head drops lower, his expression saddens, while his hands, hidden behind his back, clench slightly, all in response to the words he always knew were to come. It wasn't only Dino he had to worry about, it was his father too. Life under the man's care has not been of utter compassion, and after the harsh experience he's been through since Thursday, he dearly hopes to gain some, at least from someone he trusts as deeply as his father.

His brown eyes look up slightly, and notice the look of seriousness shift to worry a bit, though enough to encourage words to spill out. He really doesn't want to drag his old man into this, but he has little choice in the matter. Should his words bring in more conflict, then he will just have to accept it.

"I got attacked."

He admits, and his father, Tsuyoshi, quickly responds.

"By who?"

Yamamoto looks up fully, and sees worry deep in those eyes. He must have looked dreadful when he came home. This is bad, he doesn't need the old man to worry too much.

"It doesn't matter, pops. I'm fine. I can handle this-"

"Takeshi." The sharp cut silences and scares Yamamoto. Worry is less apparent in those eyes as a hint of disapproval seeps in. "I trust your skills in fighting, and your ability to defend yourself. However," Yamamoto gulps. "what I saw was basically a wounded soldier who didn't look at all _fine_."

"But pops-"

" _By who_?"

Yamamoto averts his gaze to consider on what to say. It's utterly clear that the elder Yamamoto won't let him off the hook with reassuring words that are failing in their task. Indeed, Yamamoto felt terrible this morning, depressed and angry at the same time, and none of this was hidden until he got that warm greeting. His clothes meanwhile remained somewhat battered and cut and his limbs probably hurt too much to act as if they weren't suffering. He was only able, or only smart enough, to fake a smile.

Knowing his mistake, Yamamoto is to make up for it by revealing what he - in his best judgment - deems safe to say. He still doesn't want his father involved in this conflict. He's never been a part of their teenage issues and should remain an outsider.

"I went to visit someone, but I wasn't exactly welcomed."

"Why did you go see them?"

Yamamoto ponders carefully on his next words, knowing whatever he says may seal his father's fate in the matter.

"To apologize, for not being friendly enough. It's someone I have known for a long time, and I thought, this morning was a good opportunity to, you know," Yamamoto displays a goofy grin, and luckily, it helps to calm the intense atmosphere. "make amends."

Not exactly a lie but still far from the actual truth. Regardless if Tsuyoshi noticed this or not, he forgives his son. Saturday, therefore, ends without further hassle.

* * *

 _...Elsewhere..._  

* * *

Tonight's sky is so beautiful. There's a full moon and all the stars are so clear, so visible. Mukuro finds the sight quite heavenly.

_Knock, knock_

Red and blue eyes turn towards the door. A couple of feet exists between him and the source of the sound, and thanks to a sign he so carefully carved, it's also separates him from other people. It has been doing its job really well, ever since Thursday, with the exception of one, very unusual morning when, someone he never thought to see, entered.

"Mukuro-sama," Chikusa's voice. "We sincerely apologize for allowing a Vongola into our domain."

It has been hours since such an intrusion occurred, so what pops up in Mukuro's head first, is why it took him so long to admit his mistake? It's not like Mukuro feels mad over it, not when it was a _Vongola guardian_ who came by. Knowing the dangers he would face should either Ken or Chikusa kill the rain guardian, regardless of the reason, he is very alright with having to personally remove the teenager from his home.

He just didn't like what the guardian had to say.

Looking back at the dark sky, arm outstretched over his right knee while everything else remains the same as before, Mukuro takes his time to reply to the waiting subordinate outside his room. He does wonder why they let him go, and he ponders whether he should ask Chikusa this, or simply dismiss him for the sake of quickly resuming his solitary peace.

In the end, he is forced to answer in fear his subordinate will decide to open the door, thinking something might have happened to him.

Nothing has happened, of course.

"Mukuro-sama?"

 _Worry_ , for the first time, sounds obvious in Chikusa's voice. It is disturbing to hear, for it is not how things should be. Sighing, Mukuro makes his choice fast before continuing on with his sight-seeing.

"Apology accepted." He kindly says. "Now go."

He can barely hear footsteps as the other retreats, and afterwards, only silence and the faint sound of wind reaches Mukuro's ears. He must have been in quite a deep trance to not hear nor feel the other as he approached. Well, that's a bad habit he appears to be developing.

Left alone once more, the illusionist does nothing else...but watch.

A beautiful sight indeed.

* * *

"Well, well?"

Ken eagerly asks as he bounces on all fours, with tongue swaying and a dog tail sticking out from behind. Usually, this would annoy Chikusa, and Ken would do it for this very purpose, but this time, both of them have another thing on their minds; their beloved master.

Chikusa descends the ladder slowly and calmly, though this doesn't stop Ken from growing excited by the second. Once they are face to face, Chikusa, with an expression mostly empty but with a not-so-obvious hint of sadness, begins his answer.

Ken stops his jumping the moment he sees his companion's lips part.

"He forgives us." Noticing Ken wishes to hear more, he adds. "That's it."

Both go quiet afterwards. The outcome was not as hoped, but better than they feared. They made a mistake this morning, at the very least, so they began thinking on what to do as time went by. Initially, Chikusa planned on apologizing immediately after Yamamoto left, but by the time he reached the ladder, he felt an aura so thick and dark, he had no choice but to wait until four in the afternoon to try again.

By then the aura had weakened, but still proved too frightening for them to approach. Even though both were ready to climb, they didn't. It took until a few minutes ago for at least one of them to gather the courage to tell Mukuro of their mistake, one which he obviously knew about, though Chikusa was also prepared to voice their reason, or more correctly, his own reason.

However, their master once again rebuffed him, pushed him aside as quickly as he could in order to remain alone, as he has been since Thursday.

They both worry with all their hearts, that by letting Yamamoto go, they actually brought a very troublesome person before Mukuro's presence. Chikusa so badly believed that he could be trusted. **No** , his decision only made things worse. Even after a handful of hours, the weakened aura still spelled the one thing they both know exists inside Mukuro.

_Sorrow._

Chikusa then wonders, how long would it have taken, had he chosen to keep on chasing Yamamoto. Something in Ken's eyes as they walk away, implies that they would've failed to catch him and all would still be the same. Hopefully, none of this is really Chikusa's fault.

He was only doing what he thought was best.

* * *

_...Back at Yamamoto's house..._

* * *

"Mukuro..."

It's a first, for Yamamoto, to spend an entire day - especially a day of the weekend - completely focused on one person. He's been through quite a lot this Saturday, and although it's not the most hectic Saturday of his life, all that's happened is enough to tire him out to the point he doesn't even have the energy to change his clothes.

He doesn't usually wear this much to bed, but it honestly can't be helped.

Today was a scary, yet exciting day and after so much thinking and so much pain been forced to endure, Yamamoto can barely keep his eyes open.

The tip of his fingers can just about reach his pillow, if only he could shift himself up higher and not leave his legs dangling by the edge. Maybe he should use the futon instead, but this thought gets brushed aside almost instantly when he realizes how difficult it is going to be to prepare it for sleeping.

This position, on the other hand, is becoming quite uncomfortable.

Not to mention, he forgot to turn off the lights.

A faint smile appears on his face, as he looks back at how silly he can be, sometimes. Whatever mistakes he's made, he prays his visit wasn't a major one, and with a dangerous result. Getting scolded by Gokudera should be enough, right?

In the end, Yamamoto successfully rises from his bed and over to the switch, with a hunched back that makes him resemble a man way too old for his favorite pass time.

Just as he is about to return to the bed, Yamamoto catches a glimpse of the stars above, through his window. As if forgetting how exhausted he is, Yamamoto slides up the glass and takes a look out. The wonderful view causes his smile to widen, into something genuine...something beautiful.

One can freely wonder, if Yamamoto knows, who he is watching these stars with.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short? Yes. Imperfect? Yes. For now, let me give you readers a chapter to help you wait, while I finish this story, at last.


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